It seems Mtembo Nnkoba is human after all. This morning he was at his post just before 9:00. He took one short break in the morning before stopping to eat. There was a bit of grumbling as he stepped through the back of the barricade and was escorted to a nearby van where, presumably, his lunch was waiting. He rested only 30 minutes and was back at his post. He took one more short break this afternoon. I was beginning to wonder how he could possibly handle all this work when he finally cracked. He stopped and put his hands on his knees. A ripple of concerned talk went through the crowd, but the Church volunteers reacted as if it were an emergency.
Two people rushed to help Nnkoba to a chair and give him some water and some kind of food. After talking with him for a few minutes, they moved the chair back to his normal position so he could continue to do his healing work, but from a seated position. At least two people have been standing with him since then making sure he drinks and eats occasionally to keep up his strength.
One Church member told me that “Brother Mtembo,” as they like to call him, didn’t want to sit because he knew everyone he saw had been standing in line. Pastor Smith has been trying to explain to him that this could go on for many days, and nobody could be expected to stand that whole time. Still, Nnkoba didn’t relent until he was unable to keep going without the chair.
I asked if Nnkoba felt drained after doing his thing. I wondered if any energy was taken from him to do this healing. The Church member stated emphatically that nothing was coming out of Brother Mtembo except the words and laying his hands on people. All of the healing was being done by God, which took no energy from Nnkoba. They say he feels emotionally for everyone he touches, but he is not drained of energy.
The crowd seems to be more on edge than ever since Nnkoba sat down. There’s a sense that this might not go on forever and nobody knows when it will end. Being last in line is somewhat frightening in light of that.
On a positive note, the Church has bought some of those Tyvek wristbands that are used to indicate paid entry at clubs and other venues. They plan to write a date and a number on each band to mark people’s places in line when Nnkoba has to stop tonight. They say they will enforce these numbers tomorrow morning.
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Sommers:
Mark, how did the day go in Central Park?
(Cut to Mark Jacobs, Live feed)
Jacobs:
Leslie, as you can see from these clips, it’s been an interesting day.
(Cut to pre-recorded video, Mark Jacobs voice-over)
Jacobs:
The first day of healing in Central Park emphasized hope and excitement. The second day emphasized worry and fear. It started when people found themselves in a very different place in line this morning than they left last night. The rush to get a good spot knocked one woman over and left those in the back grumbling loudly that this was unfair. All worries turned to smiles as Mr. Nnkoba began his healing activities. The results today were just as spectacular as yesterday.
But those waiting in line took little solace in the miracles being performed in front of them. They expressed growing concern that something might cause Mr. Nnkoba to stop before he could get to them. Grumbling was loud at each break Mr. Nnkoba took, and at each of the five ambulance gurneys that went immediately to the front of the line. But there was an almost palpable fear when Mr. Nnkoba nearly collapsed and had to be almost carried to a nearby chair to drink some water and eat some food. Mr. Nnkoba continued his healing from a seated position, but the reality had set in.
Saunders:
(Caption: Liz Saunders, Manhattan) I waited a long time today and I was almost at the front of the line when he collapsed. I was afraid right then it was over. I’ve got - I mean I had - inoperable cancer and I was afraid I was going to have to leave without being healed. Thank God, that didn’t happen, and I can tell from my energy level that the cancer is gone.
In a way, it’s strange. I had come to terms with the fact that I might die. My will was ready and my relatives have information on how to access everything in my estate. But once I was given this hope I realized that I still want to live. To come that close and face the prospect of death again really frightened me.
I understand giving priority to people in ambulances who might die any second. I think it would be good if they did some other prioritization as well. If people in front of me in line today had been sick with colds or something, it would have been really bad to have to miss my chance to be cured of cancer so they could stop having the sniffles.
(Cut to live feed) Jacobs:
So far, the Church has not said anything about further prioritization of the visitors. Except for those in imminent danger, they are still seeing everyone on a first-come, first-served basis. They did hand out wristbands after Mr. Nnkoba finished at about 6:00 this evening. The bands have today’s date and a sequence number. The date is rather ominous as it allows for the possibility that someone who was in line when Mr. Nnkoba finished today could still be waiting at the end of the day tomorrow. But it’s good the Church is working things out. As crowds continue to grow, that scenario is becoming more likely.
(Cut to split screen - Live feed and studio)
Sommers:
Mark, what’s your sense. This is only the second day and the crowds are already becoming unhappy. How is this likely to end?
Jacobs:
I’m a little afraid to consider that, Leslie. You heard from Ms. Saunders that even people who had resigned hope now have hope rekindled. The people waiting in line when the healings stop are going to be unhappy, probably even angry. And this is already a larger crowd than I want to see turned into a mob.
Sommers:
We appreciate your work watching this story, Mark. Have a good night.
Jacobs:
Good night, Leslie. Mark Jacobs, WNYC Live.